


One Hundred Ways to Say

by ZedElla (Leviarty)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Accidentally High, Courtship, Drunkenness, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviarty/pseuds/ZedElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I love you” sounds a little different in Lantean.</p><p>(18 ficlets and counting)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Hundred Ways to Say

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this post: http://p0ck3tf0x.tumblr.com/post/98502010026/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you ; various ships in a multitude of situations, ranging from 100-500 words. Most of them are stupendously fluffy, but there are a couple that deal with reactions to canon character death.

**“Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.” – McShep**

The space gate was in orbit of a monumentally unimpressive planet. The Ancients’ form of guided evolution was impressive, but on this planet it had failed, the most advanced creatures being a bizarre reptilian primate – cold blooded, scaly, and swinging from trees. There was no evidence of higher brain function, though someone had commented on their use of stones to break open nuts and seeds. Rodney was thoroughly unimpressed.

What caught his attention was the satellite orbiting the sixth planet. It was clearly man-made, possibly early Lantean in design. The planet in question was just outside the goldilocks zone, too cold to support any life they were familiar with.

Getting to the satellite took hours, though Sheppard didn’t complain (Ronon did, before they’d left home, and Teyla had managed to talk their way out of going). They spent hours more on the satellite while Rodney tried to figure out its purpose, its power source, and whether or not it was still functional. Sheppard complained only a little, and Rodney was pretty sure it was only for the sake of complaining, not that he genuinely was miserable. Every once in a while he offered up a tired round of commentary on what he thought the station might be for.

“Alright, we should head back,” he said. They were due in Atlantis in just under four hours, and it would take most of that to get back.

Rodney spent a few more minutes downloading what he could to a hard drive, then climbed back aboard the jumper, where Sheppard was waiting. He was leaned back in the pilot’s seat, his eyes closed.

McKay secured his equipment, then nudged Sheppard. “Up,” he said. “I’ll drive.”

“I’m fine,” Sheppard said, shaking his head. He turned to face forward, powering up the jumper with a single thought.

“ _I’ll drive_ ,” Rodney said a little more forcefully. He still had hours to go before the coffee wore off.

Sheppard nodded, then slid out of the pilot’s and into the copilot’s seat. He laid back and closed his eyes again, allowing himself to relax while Rodney disengaged from the satellite and took off toward the space gate.

 

 

 

**“It reminded me of you.” – McShep**

Rodney was sick. Not contagious, according to Carson, but sick enough to be off the mission list for a week or so. And John knew he must have been miserable, because he hadn’t been complaining about how miserable he was, or about how much work he was missing. He mostly just lay in bed, surrounded by tissues. Radek had been kind enough to set up a viewscreen and leave a few movies to keep him entertained.

John didn’t ring the bell when he arrived at Rodney’s room, not wanting to disturb him if, by some miracle, he’d managed to finally get some sleep.

The lights were off, but the viewscreen was on (albeit very dim, and very quiet). Rodney was awake, his nose red and his eyes droopy.

“How you doing?” John asked quietly, approaching the bed.

Rodney let out a groan. “How was the mission?”

“Nice and quiet, without everyone’s favorite loudmouth scientist,” he said with a smirk. Rodney pouted. “I brought something back for you.”

“Is it the cure to all disease? Because if it’s not I don’t think I care.”

“Sorry,” John said. “I guess I’ll just give it to Zelenka.”

“No, no, I’ll take it. I was kidding. What is it?”

John smirked and pulled the object from behind his back. Rodney hadn’t even noticed he was hiding something.

It was a small potted plant, rather like a bonsai. Its tiny yellow leaves looked exactly like lemons.

“Reminded me of you,” John said. Rodney glared, and John laughed.

“You are literally the worst friend I’ve ever had.”

“I’m the _best_ friend you’ve ever had.”

 

 

 

**“No, no, it’s my treat.” – McShep**

Being back on Earth is… an adjustment. It’s downright weird. The SGC is grey and drab, where Atlantis had been shiny and blue, but that was just the surface of the weird. It came in many forms, starting with the whole atmosphere of Stargate Command – it’s stiffer, and though everyone there had known each other a long time, they weren’t family. He hadn’t really thought of Atlantis as family until he experienced the alternative.

And then there was his team – two scientists and an airman he hadn’t met until Landry told him there was an opening on an SG-team. He didn’t ask what caused the opening, because he knew all too well that it could have been a death, or life-altering injury. It wasn’t though, as he later found out from one of his new teammates; their former commander had just decided to take a desk job so he’d have more time to spend with his family. And that was weird too, because he was used to being around people whose jobs were literally more important that their personal lives.

And not seeing Teyla and Ronon? That sucked. More than once he found himself wishing he’d found a way to stay behind in Pegasus, just so he could stay with them.

Carson was working in the SGC infirmary, and Lorne had taken another open spot on an SG-team, as had several other Atlantis personnel.

A lot of the scientists had taken jobs at Area 51, or similar research facilities in their respective countries, and that, maybe, was the thing he missed the most. He was so used to living in a civilian atmosphere, where scientific exploration was the driving force of every day. The SGC was also a scientific endeavor, but it was significantly skewed by the military. He kind of missed dropping in on scientists, just to see what they were up to.

After his first mission with the new team – which went spectacularly awful – they gave him four days off, which he used to fly down to Nevada (he’d forgotten how much he hated commercial airlines and not being in complete control).

Area 51 didn’t particularly like him showing up unannounced, with bags of outside food, but his clearance and rank get him through to doors and down to the labs.

“Colonel? What are you doing here?” Rodney asked in surprised.

He dropped one of the bags in front of Rodney. “My treat,” he said, pulling up a chair as he unraveled his own bag of food.  Maybe the only good thing about Earth was being able to pick up food from their favorite burger joint.

 

 

 

**“Come here.  Let me fix it.” – McShep**

His hands were shaking, which was something that seldom ever happened. He was a soldier, moreover a fighter pilot. He couldn’t afford to be unsteady.

But there he was, fumbling with his uniform. His shirt was buttoned okay, but his tie was a mess and his coat was still hanging on the rack.

This was ridiculous. John Sheppard trembling? This was foreign. He had lost people, people he was close to. He’d delivered the news to the family before. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite like this.

“Come here,” Rodney said, calling him away from the hotel mirror with his hands. “I’ll get it.”

And Rodney’s hands were steady as ever, nimble as they unknotted the tie and redid the whole thing. Rodney’s hands were always steady – he could hardly work on specialized Lantean equipment is they weren’t, but John was surprised anyhow. He was handling himself better than expected, better than John was. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

He finished the knot and turned to grab the dress coat off the hanger. He held it out to help John into it, which was unnecessary, but appreciated.

“Thanks, Rodney,” he said quietly.

 

 

 

“ **I’ll walk you home.” – Lorne/Parrish**

Cadman’s team brought back moonshine – the people of M43-118 called it Hota, but it was moonshine with stupidly high liquor content. How she managed to get it passed Sheppard and Weir was anyone’s guess, but she did it.

“Promise to keep a secret?” she asked in a stage whisper when Evan opened his door.

“That depends on how illegal the secret is,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm, dragging him down the hall to her room. Sitting on her floor was part of her team (Sgt. Wes and Dr. Porter) along with Dr. Parrish.

“What’s going on here?” he asked.

“Moonshine,” she said with a grin.

It was a terrible idea, he knew, and they probably all knew, but he sat down with them anyway. He wouldn’t drink though.

Okay, maybe just a sip.

It tasted terrible, like off-world moonshine usually did, but it certainly got the job done. By the time the jar passed around again, he didn’t even care how bad it tasted.

He took another gulp and passed it to Parrish, who shook his head.

“I’m designated driver,” he said. Of course, no one was driving anywhere, but it was a good idea to have someone sober in case something went wrong. In case the moonshine was laced with something else.

But it wasn’t. It was just pure, strong alcohol.

Before long they were laughing and chattering wildly, debating which of the scientists had slept with which soldiers, and whether a betting pool should be started on McKay and Sheppard.

“Alright homies,” Laura said after a while. “I’m going to ravish Ali now, whether you’re all here or not.”

“I think we would prefer the latter,” Dr. Porter said, blushing deeply, but otherwise didn’t seem to mind that Laura was working her hands into her girlfriend’s pants.

“And that’s our cue,” Parrish said, helping Evan and Sgt. Wes to their feet.

None of them was really that drunk, and Wes seemed perfectly coherent when he turned to hop onto the transporter, so Parrish didn’t feel bad walking the opposite direction with Evan.

“Didn’t we just pass your quarters?” Lorne asked, turning back.

Parrish tugged him back by his sleeve. “I’m walking you to your quarters first,” he said.

“We’ll that’s silly,” Evan said. He wiggled his nose a little, distracted by an odd feeling. “I’m supposed to be your body guard, not the other way around.”

“Well, I’m not the one falling over drunk, am I?” Parrish asked with a little laugh.

“Pffft,” Evan sounded. “Not _that_ drunk.”

“You’re a little drunk.” Parrish waved his hand over the sensor and Evan’s door slid open.

“You’re cute,” Evan said, bopping him on the nose, before falling into bed. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

 

 

 

**“Have a good day at work.” – Lorne/Parrish + Cadman**

“Are you going off-world today?” Parrish asked over breakfast.

“Both of us are,” Laura said through a mouthful of faux-tatoes. They’d recently received intel that one of their trading partners had been attacked by the Wraith, and both teams were being sent to investigate.

“Probably for a couple days,” Lorne said. They were scheduled for two nights, which would mean two nights of camping, unless the intel was wrong or the Wraith were still hanging around.

“I do not like camping,” Parrish said, earning a strange look from Cadman.

“But you love plants,” Laura said.

“He doesn’t love bugs.”

Parrish nodded in agreement. “I also don’t enjoy sleeping on the ground.”

“But falling asleep looking at the stars in nice,” Cadman said.

“I can see plenty of stars from Atlantis, and many plants in my lab. Speaking of, I’m supposed to meet with Dr. Brown in five minutes. Good luck on your mission.”

“Have a good day with your plants,” Evan replied as Parrish jogged away. He caught a glimpse of the look Laura was giving him. “What?” he asked. “ _What_?”

“Nothing,” she said with a knowing smile.

 

 

 

**“I dreamt about you last night.” – McShep**

“Why are you looking at me like that, Rodney?” Sheppard asked after ignoring him for several minutes.

“Nothing,” McKay said, shaking his head and looking back down at his tablet. “I had a dream about you last night.”

“Oh? Did I attempt to kill you? Should we find Dr. Kellar?” He was pretty sure he hadn’t touched any alien crystals recently, but that didn’t mean much on Atlantis. Hell, it could be the city appearing in people’s dreams looking like him.

“No, no, nothing like that. We were in a jumper, flying somewhere. It was actually quite strange.”

“Was a whale chasing us?”

“Now that you mention it, yes, there was a whale chasing us through space. It was friendly though, might have been Sam.”

“I hope I shot it.”

 

 

 

“ **Take my seat.” – McShep**

It was the stupidest thing, but it hurt like hell. Running from angry locals – not even Wraith, dammit – through mud and wet leaves had led Sheppard skidding into a tree. He had three cracked ribs and his whole right side was bruised; he could hardly walk without wincing. And he didn’t even have a good story to go with his pain.

He knew he was supposed to rest, stay off his feet for a couple days, but it was his ribs and back that hurt, not his legs, and more to the point, lying down didn’t actually ease any of his pain.

He wandered into Rodney’s lab, where he and Zelenka were arguing over some physics thing that was mostly beyond John’s grasp, but he hung around anyway – listening to them argue was always a little amusing, and if he hung around long enough, one of them might dump stale coffee on the other.

He leaned on the table, flinching only slightly. He didn’t think either had even noticed he was there, but no sooner than his elbows rested on the counter, Rodney had climbed off his chair and rolled it toward him wordlessly.

“No no no,” Rodney exclaimed, erasing half of the equation Radek had just written on the whiteboard.

 

 

 

**“I saved a piece for you.” – McShep**

Sheppard was already sitting with Ronon and Teyla when Rodney entered the mess hall, late, as usual.

“What do you mean there’s none left?” they all heard Rodney exclaim. “What kind of- Fine, whatever.”

When he appeared at their table a couple minutes later, he was carrying a tray of chicken dinner and wearing a frown.

“What’s the matter, McKay?” Ronon asked.

“They’re out of cheesecake,” he said, clearly very annoyed.

John smirked and slid the slice off his own tray, onto Rodney’s. Everyone deserved chocolate.

“Wha?”

“I knew you’d be late,” Sheppard shrugged. “So I grabbed an extra slice.”

 

 

 

**“I’m sorry for your loss.” – McShep**

Rodney had never heard him talk about his dad, or any of his family for that matter. He hadn’t known if any of them were alive, even. It wasn’t something they talked about, and now that John’s father was dead, he still wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.

He knocked on Sheppard’s door. John opened it without getting up from his bed, but gave Rodney a strange look. Oh, right, he’d stopped knocking a long time ago.

He held up the things in his hands. “I brought MarioKart and beer.”

John’s expression turned into a broad smile, and he jumped out of bed to turn on the TV.

Rodney didn’t always know what to say to make things better, but he liked to think he know Sheppard well enough to know what to do.

 

 

 

**“You can have half.” – McShep**

Rodney frowned when the plate of food was set down in front of him. The people of Jamora were welcome hosts, and had promised them fine meals, but whatever was delivered was far from his expectations. “Yours looks better than mine,” he said when Sheppard received his place. Sheppard didn’t look thrilled with it though.

“You can have half,” he said, sliding the plate so it sat between them.

Which, had they listened to Teyla’s briefing, they would have know was a bad idea, because apparently the sharing of food was something done only by married couples on the day of their wedding. This wasn’t so much a problem as it was awkward. What was only meant to be a simple trade negotiation had quickly turned into a confusing ceremony, and laughing material for the rest of Atlantis.

 

 

 

**“Take my jacket, its cold outside.” – Parrish/Lorne**

David didn’t go off-world often; most days he was content to sit in his lab with plants and soil samples. On occasion, one of the other teams found a noteworthy planet with interesting growth patterns or atmospheric readings that he just _had_ to see for himself. M44-83X was one such planet.

It was a warm planet during the day, but he wanted to examine some nocturnal flora. Despite the frowns and silent objections from Lorne’s team, they get permission from Woolsey to stay the night.

Temperatures started dropping not long after the sun set, leading Parrish to some excited hypotheses about the makeup of the atmosphere and something about the greenhouse effect.

“I got this one,” Lorne said.

“You sure?” Reed asked.

Lorne nodded. “You guys stay by the gate, get a couple tents set up near the treeline.” He jogged to catch up with Parrish.

“You forgot your jacket, didn’t you?” Lorne said an hour later. They had been walking the whole time, in a semi-circle that had them staying within radio range of the other, but allowed Parrish to see as many plants as possible.

“I’m fine,” Parrish assured him.

Lorne rolled his eyes and unfastened his tac-vest, the stripped off his jacket, tossing it to Parrish.

“Major, that’s not necessary,” he said.

“You’re cold, put it on,” Lorne said, pulling the tac-vest back on.

Parrish obliged, zipping it up to his neck, and finally stopped shivering. “Thank you, major.”

 

 

 

**“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.” – McShep**

Rodney had always had nightmares, but for the most part, he’d been able to handle them pretty okay. Whales, Wraith, drowning, etc. But he’d been able to separate dream from reality, knew when he woke up that everything was okay, it was just a dream.

The alien parasite messed with his brain though, and what used to be perfect clarity was replaced by confusion. It had only been there a few days, but with every moment that passed, he could feel the haze falling over his eyes.

He knocked lightly on John’s door, hoping not to disturb him if he was sleeping, but also hoping he would answer.

John was rolling out of his bed when the door slid open.

“Rodney?” he asked, a little groggily. “Everything okay?”

“Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to wake you, I just… I’ll leave.”

“Rodney,” John said, reaching out to stop him. “It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Which was a lie, but it didn’t matter. “What’s wrong?”

Rodney shook his head. “I had a nightmare and I couldn’t… I couldn’t remember if it was real or not, so I had to be sure.”

“Nightmare about me?”

Rodney didn’t nod, but his face was all the answer John needed.

“I’m right here,” he said. “Come on, sit down.”

 

 

 

**“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel better.” – McShep**

For all they joke and poke fun, Rodney actually had a terrible immune system. He was constantly coming back from missions running a mild temperature, and if he wasn’t allergic to some plant on every damn planet, it was a damn miracle.

The rest of the team easily fought off most of the bugs they encountered, never showing any signs of infection. John couldn’t even remember the last time he’d really gotten sick.

So when it finally did hit him? It was awful. He was miserable, cooped up in bed with a headache and all over pain and a nose so stuffed he couldn’t breathe.

“How you feeling?” Rodney asked, entering his room without even bothering to knock.

John let out a long, incoherent groan.

“That’s what I thought.” He started moving around the room, relocating a few things so they were within reach of the bed – War and Peace, his iPod, his computer, the remote for the TV, an extra blanket.

“Should you be in here?” John asked, his stuffy nose distorting his words a little.

“Carson says you’re 100% not contagious,” he said from across the room. John couldn’t see what he was doing, and ached too much to crane his neck.

“Good for me.”

“Well, not really, but good for me because now I can come and go with no worry of dying.”

“I’m not dying,” he said. He felt a little like he was dying, but refused to stoop to Rodney’s level of melodrama.

“Here, drink this,” Rodney said, handing him a large cup of something hot. He wasn’t sure how coffee was going to make him feel better. “It’s tea.”

John took a large gulp, letting the warm fluid sooth his throat. “This tastes like ass,” he announced with a frown, then set in on the nightstand.

“And I’m sure you have lots of experience tasting ass,” Rodney said, rolling his eyes.

“You’d be surprised.”

Rodney frowned thoughtfully. “You can tell me all about that later. Right now you have to drink that whole cup.”

“But it’s gross,” he whined.

“It will help you feel better. Drink it, or so help me I will find Carson and have him force it down your throat.”

John rolled his eyes, but if he hadn’t felt so shitty, Rodney’s dominant nature might have been more of a turn on. “You sure know how to woo a guy.”

“Drink!”

 

 

 

**“Can I hold your hand?” – Lorne/Parrish**

“You busy tonight?” Lorne asked, leaning in the doorway of the botany lab. “There’s a meteor shower, if you want to come along.”

“I’d like that,” Parrish said with a smile.

“East pier, 2300.”

Only after Lorne disappeared did his smile turn into a confused frown. He wasn’t sure… would he find a group of people at the pier gathered to watch the meteor shower, or had Lorne been hinting at something more… intimate?

He settled on the former, because he didn’t want to set his expectations too high, not with an American military man, and the XO of Atlantis for that matter. It was a group thing, of course. He would try not to be disappointed.

Lorne stopped by the lab again, minutes before Parrish had planned to leave. They walked down to the pier together, talking idly.

He was pleasantly surprised to find the pier otherwise empty, and the shower was just starting.

Lorne laid down, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the pier, and Parrish settled down next to him.

It was quite beautiful – the view from Atlantis always was, even without stellar anomaly – but what was more beautiful was the look of awe on Lorne’s face. He found himself watching his companion more than the sky.

Lorne caught him staring, but only smiled back at him before turning his attention back to the stars.

Parrish smiled too, and brushed his knuckles along Lorne’s. A simple question, silent and harmless. If it made Evan uncomfortable, they could easily pretend it didn’t happen, that it was an accident.

But Evan didn’t ignore it. He laced his fingers through David’s, his smile growing.

If he watched the sky long enough, maybe he could feel whatever it was that made Evan love flying so much.

 

 

 

**“Drive safely.” - McShep**

“You’re _sure_ you don’t want me to fly you out there?” Sheppard asked.

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Rodney replied. It was just a quick jump to the mainland and back, no big deal. It certainly didn’t require Sheppard to cancel his plans with Ronon (even if said plans were silly, stupid, or otherwise life threatening). Rodney may not have been a stellar pilot, but flying a jumper was a bit like driving a car – once you learn it, it wasn’t something you lost. He suspected that, for the Ancients, flying a jumper was exactly like driving a car, merely a means to get from point A to point B, not something that required any particular skill.

Of course, to Sheppard, flying was flying, and flying a jumper was maybe the best kind.

“Okay,” he said. If he was a little disappointed, he didn’t show it. “Fly safe.”

“Yes, yes, and I won’t break your precious jumper,” Rodney said, waving his hand absently.

“If you break my jumper, I will break your hand.”

 

 

 

**“Can I kiss you?” – Lorne/Parrish**

It went on like this for a while, little things here and there. David was hesitant to call them dates, though he hoped that’s what they were. He couldn’t be sure though, because no one had actually said the word date, and he was notoriously bad at interpreting romantic advances – or rather, he was good at misinterpreting non-romantic advances.

But Evan kept dropping by the botany labs, kept inviting him to meals, or meteor showers, or movie night, or whatever. It all seemed rather like dating, but what did he know?

It would be a hell of a lot easier to figure out if one of them was a woman.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Evan said gently. He tugged on David’s sleeve, dragging him toward the mess hall, where much of the base was celebrating… well, he actually wasn’t sure what they were celebrating. They partied a lot, for a bunch of scientists and soldiers. Maybe it was the constant impending doom that made them feel like they had to celebrate every moment of life they’d been lucky enough to have.

Not that he was complaining.

“You okay up there, Doc?” Evan asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Evan shrugged.

The party went on for a while, with dancing and food, and boisterous people doing possibly illegal things, but no one really cared.

“Come on,” Evan said, tugging him toward the exit after a while.

“Where are we going?”

“To get some air.”

The night sky was beautiful, as always, and the salty ocean air smelled like home.

Evan turned to him, smiling, wearing some unreadable form of joy that David was seeing more and more often lately. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

The question shocked him, but the answer slid off his tongue easily.

 

 

 

**“I like your laugh.” – McShep + team**

Rodney was stoned out of his mind.

Okay, they were _all_ stoned out of their minds. It wasn’t intentional, but they weren’t given a whole lot of choice in the matter, local customs and all that. None of the locals really told them what they were getting into, just that it was part of the ritual blah blah blah.

They probably should have asked a few more questions, but, eh, too late now.

Teyla was really mellow, and it was only the lazy smile that gave away just how much Hibasha she’d consumed.

Ronon was lying on the floor, talking more than anyone had ever heard, telling stories about Sateda, and bizarre sexual encounters that only he could have.

Rodney just kept repeating the same words, over and over, as though his tongue was completely foreign and he had no idea how to make the words sound right. None of the words sounded quite like words.

John? John was grinning from ear to ear, laughing at every joke Ronon told.

“You have a nice laugh,” Rodney said, giggling as they all fell into their tent together. Maybe he could convince the villagers to let them bring some Hibasha back – Elizabeth might have been a tough sell, but surely hearing that laugh again would be worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> There are, obviously, not 100 ficlets here; I'll probably get around to fulfilling the rest of the list, but I wanted to get these out into the world for now. If you want to read more, I take bribery in the form of heartfelt comments.


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